Free Mind Reader by Vicki Hinze

said, and as if she under stood his motives then, she stilled her hands and let them just rest against his chest. Beneath her fingers, he felt his heart pound. God, but her lips were soft. And she smelled so good. So warm and sweet. He’d wanted to kiss her at least a hundred times today.
    Her fingers began moving, rubbing tiny strokes against his jacket. She flattened her hand against it, as if the creamy leather were seducing her palm. She wanted to touch him. Parker groaned and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. She tried pulling back, but he buried his hands in her hair and held her firmly to him, crushing his lips down on hers.
    “Parker,” she gritted out between sweeps of his tongue. “Knock it off.”
    “Shh.” He pulled back far enough to talk, buthis voice was as shaky as an old woman’s. “Make it look good, or have your answers ready.”
    From the corner of her eye, Caron saw the man near the front of the car, and again fused her mouth with Parker’s. His lips were gentle, soft and heated, and he tasted faintly of shrimp and brown gravy. She loved shrimp and smooth, hot brown gravy. He smelled wonderful, too. Like fresh air, rain, and some heavenly cologne she’d didn’t recognize. Very masculine. Very inviting. Very, very tempting.
    He caught her lower lip and tugged, then plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. White heat washed through her body, and Caron nearly melted into the seat. His throaty groan told her he had noticed her reaction, too. And, determined that he not make a one-sided issue of the matter later, she wound her arms around his neck, her fin gers into the silky curls at his nape. Never in her life had she felt anything so sensual as that silky curl wrapping around her finger while the back of her hand caressingly brushed against warm male skin.
    A tapping on the window grew insistent.  
    Parker cranked down the glass without breaking their kiss, then looked over at the man. “Yes?”
    “What are you two doing out here?”
    Parker thought that was obvious. Every window in the car was steamed up. Caron tried to move away. He should let her—their kiss had served its purpose and more. But he held her to him. “We had a little disagreement,” he told the man in an unsteady voice. “But everything’s fine now.”
    The man gave Parker a totally male look. “Well, find a motel. My old lady’s breaking her neck watching you two.”
    Parker rolled the glass back up, then glanced at Caron. Her hand rested in a fist against his chest. She kept her gaze fixed on his neck, but even in the dim light he could see that she was blushing.
    “Don’t you ever do that again,” she said from between gritted teeth. She pulled away, shifted over on the seat, and gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles stood raised like knobs. “Not ever.”
    “It wasn’t that bad.” Parker ignored the daggers she was sending his way. “I’ll admit you could use a little practice. But you don’t kiss that bad.” If she’d been any better, he’d have been making love with her on the front seat. That lack of control over his own body infuriated him. Of all the women in the world, this one he didn’t want. The trouble was, his body did want her. And it wanted her badly.
    “Shut up, Simms.”
    “What did I do?” He knew exactly, of course. Her breathing hadn’t yet steadied, either. The aroused male in him loved that; he knew from watching her that she didn’t often come unglued in a man’s arms. But she’d come un- glued in his.
    “Would you just shut up?” She grabbed a tissue and began swiping at the windows.
    She didn’t look vulnerable now. She looked ready to scratch his eyes out. Knowing she’d been just as affected as he took away some of the sting. His body had betrayed him. But hers had betrayed her, too. Lust was tough on the ego, and on the conscience. It demanded tackling before it could be dismissed. So, Parker told himself, he’d tackle. “What did you